


Put the Past Away

by GotTheSilver



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Getting Together, M/M, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23987005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/pseuds/GotTheSilver
Summary: “Tony, I—you were right, I said we’d face this together and we didn’t, and that’s on me,” Steve says, putting the cup down on the counter and sticking his hands in his pockets. “But this—the world has changed, and we need to stay together. We need to be a team. You taught me that. So, you can yell at me, you can throw things at me, whatever you need to do. But I’m not going anywhere.”Tony huffs, the slightest of noises, but it’s something. Steve’s at a loss as to what to do next, but he’s not leaving, so he takes his hands out of his pockets and sits back down in the chair by Tony’s bed. Tony stares at him, and Steve stares right back, daring him to say something, to do something. To give some indication that there’s still the Tony he once knew in there.But he doesn’t.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 34
Kudos: 260





	Put the Past Away

**Author's Note:**

> canon divergent after Tony gets back from space so, like, angry feelings and depression abound.
> 
> title from jumper - third eye blind.

Staring blankly into the fridge, Steve picks up on Pepper’s strained voice coming from somewhere in Tony’s quarters, and he sighs, wishing he could tune it out. She’s not always here, but when she is all she and Tony do is fight, and Steve’s left feeling uncomfortable, knowing it’s not his place to say anything anymore. If, indeed, it ever was.

There’s a thud from somewhere in the vicinity of her voice, and Steve barely holds himself back from going that way, not wanting to interfere and push his presence on Tony when Tony’s made it very clear he doesn’t want him around.

He’s still staring into the fridge when he realises Pepper’s in the entryway to the kitchen, her arms wrapped around herself. “I can’t do this,” she says so quietly that Steve’s not sure he’s meant to be hearing it. He closes the fridge door as unobtrusively as he can and turns around, hunching his shoulders as he tries to avoid getting pulled into whatever is happening.

“He’s angry,” Pepper says, walking over to the kitchen island between them and leaning her hands on it. “All the time, and I can’t—when he’s not angry he’s just—I’ve never seen him like this.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says, the words slipping out before he can think better of it.

“Yes, well, that’s not going to do much good, is it?” Pepper shakes her head before taking a breath and exhaling slowly. “He’s not the same. What happened out there, it changed him, and I—” she breaks off, looking up for the first time and meeting Steve’s eyes. “I can’t do this. I can’t be the person he needs. Maybe if things—”

“I don’t know why you’re telling me this,” Steve says, leaning against the fridge carefully. “There’s nothing—”

“This didn’t start it,” Pepper interrupts. “Going to space, we—there were problems before that, but I thought that maybe—.” Pepper pauses, eyeing Steve contemplatively. “You know, he missed you. He wasn’t the same after what happened between you,” she carries on. “He tried, god he tried, even gave me a ring, but I guess part of me knew that it was a band aid over a bullet hole.”

“He loves you.”

“He does. And I love him, but neither of us are doing it in the right way anymore.” Pepper wipes her eyes and presses her lips together for a moment. “I’m going back to the city,” she says. “For good. There’s work to be done and I can help. More than I can here. If he—” she breaks off and glances back at Tony’s quarters. “Look after him. He’s not as angry with you as he thinks he is.”

“I don’t know—”

“He’s hurt. He’s angry, yes, but he’s hurt. And that’s going to eat away at him unless you do something about it.”

“He won’t want to see me.”

“He won’t admit he wants to see you,” Pepper says firmly. “You’ll have to take some yelling. Silent treatment. Once he gets his strength up, he’ll probably throw something at you. If you don’t want to do it, I wouldn’t blame you, but—”

“What?” Steve asks, barely getting the word out, but unable to stop his curiosity.

“I think you’re the only one who can help him heal from this.”

“You don’t know what I did,” Steve says quietly. “He has every reason to hate me, to not trust me, I can’t—”

“I know what happened in Siberia,” she says in a rush. “FRIDAY showed me, when I asked. I _know_ , Steve, and I still think you’re the one who can help him.”

Steve lets out a shaky breath and nods, squaring his shoulder like he’s going into battle. “If you think I can help, then I’ll try. I owe him that much.”

“You do,” Pepper says. “Happy’s waiting for me, to take me back to the city. There’s a lot of work to be done.”

“If we can help, then—”

“I’ll call Natasha if I need anything,” Pepper says. “You know what you need to do.”

Steve watches her turn to leave, and a thought crosses his mind. “Pepper?” he calls, as she reaches the door. “I—if he does go back to—I mean, if I can help him, then would you—”

“Tony and I are over, Steve,” Pepper says softly, her grip on her purse tightening. “For good.”

And with that, she walks away.

*

Steve’s still in the kitchen when Rhodey comes in and starts pulling together some soup ingredients. Stepping back to give him space, Steve watches Rhodey work, leaning against the counter. He assumes Rhodey’s come from Tony’s quarters, but doesn’t know how to start a conversation, and instead just stands there, watching Rhodey chop an onion up.

“He’s asleep,” Rhodey says eventually, breaking the silence. “But when he wakes up, he’s going to need to eat.”

“Did Pepper tell—”

“Yep,” Rhodey says, dicing some carrots. “She did. I’ve got the ring in my pocket because he told me to flush it. He’s not exactly at his best.”

Steve sighs, folding his arms across his chest. “She said she thinks I can help him, and I want to try, I do.”

“But?”

“But I know I hurt him, and I don’t want to make it worse. I’ve done enough damage to him.”

“Cap, to be brutally honest, at this point? I don’t think it matters,” Rhodey says, adding the carrots to the pot. “You know, I’ve seen Tony in a lot of states, I’ve seen him when he’s literally been dying and was too much of a stubborn asshole to let anyone help him. This—” Rhodey breaks off and shakes his head. “I’ve never seen him like this, and it’s terrifying. Pepper thinks you can help? Then help. Because there’s only so much of my mama’s soup I can make him.”

“Is he eating it?”

“Sometimes,” Rhodey says with a small smile. “Which is better than never.”

“I just—” Steve hesitates before ploughing ahead. “I don’t know what I can do for him that other people aren’t already doing.”

Rhodey stops stirring for a moment and looks at Steve appraisingly before turning back to the stove. “Do you know that he never told me what you did? That he never told me about your secret keeping, or what happened in Siberia? I had to get it out of FRIDAY because he never thought to ban her from telling me. Or maybe he just didn’t want to tell me himself, I’m not sure. I really thought the next time I saw you I’d want to break my hand punching you in the face, but—” Rhodey cuts himself off, pouring stock into the pot. “The thing is, that you did come back when we needed you. When Tony needed you. And I guess that stopped me from punching you. And I couldn’t afford to have a broken hand.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve says. “If I could—”

“Can’t dwell on the past, Cap,” Rhodey says, throwing a bay leaf in the pot and setting it to simmer. “But if you’re asking what you can do for him? Don’t give up on him, because he never gave up on you.”

*

Tony’s still asleep by the time Steve works up the courage to go into his quarters. It’s been weeks since they got him back; Tony’s regained some of the weight he lost in space, and they’ve been using the elixirs Carol gave them, but to Steve's eyes he still looks so frail, so breakable. Steve sighs heavily as he reaches over and picks up the tablet Tony had obviously been working on before passing out. He slides it on the table and repositions Tony’s arm so it’s not dangling off the side of the bed. Tony doesn’t stir at the touch, and it’s just another reminder of how much strain Tony’s body is under as he heals.

Sinking into the chair by Tony’s bed, Steve shakes his head, not taking his eyes off Tony. “God, I hope Pepper’s right,” he mutters under his breath. “I don’t know what I’m going to do if she’s not.”

A good hour passes before Tony starts to stir, and Steve freezes, suddenly wondering if he should leave and get Rhodey, if maybe Pepper’s wrong and him being here is going to set Tony back. But then Tony’s eyes fix on him and he’s got nowhere to go.

“W’ter,” Tony mumbles, before pressing a button to raise the bed.

Steve fumbles to his feet, and fills a cup with water, adding a straw just in case Tony needs it. Handing it over, he watches Tony swallow it down, and for a split second wonders if Tony’s going to take the opportunity to throw it at him like Pepper warned him. Instead, Tony just holds it out to Steve, not saying a word as Steve takes it.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around,” Steve says, internally flinching at how useless his words must sound. “If there’s anything you need, then I want—”

“No,” Tony says, not looking at him. “I don’t need anything from _you_.”

“Tony, I—you were right, I said we’d face this together and we didn’t, and that’s on me,” Steve says, putting the cup down on the counter and sticking his hands in his pockets. “But this—the world has changed, and we need to stay together. We need to be a team. You taught me that. So, you can yell at me, you can throw things at me, whatever you need to do. But I’m not going anywhere.”

Tony huffs, the slightest of noises, but it’s something. Steve’s at a loss as to what to do next, but he’s not leaving, so he takes his hands out of his pockets and sits back down in the chair by Tony’s bed. Tony stares at him, and Steve stares right back, daring him to say something, to do something. To give some indication that there’s still the Tony he once knew in there.

But he doesn’t.

*

“How’s the patient?” Natasha asks after Okoye signs off from the meeting, her feet flung up on the table.

“Sleepy, grumpy, take your pick,” Steve says, finishing the last of his coffee and putting the mug down.

“Of dwarves?”

“Oh, that’s helpful.”

“Just trying to keep things light,” she says with a slight smile. “But seriously, how is he really?”

“Difficult,” Steve says with a sigh. “We’ve had some civil conversations, but then it’s like we go backwards and he either yells at me or doesn’t speak to me at all, and we sit there in silence until someone else comes in. He’ll talk to Rhodey, but only if I’m not there, and he tries to get Bruce to let him work, and Thor—I mean, Thor I don’t want to let anywhere near him because they’ll just feed off each other.”

“What about me?”

Steve offers her a weak smile. “You’re good for him,” he says. “Good for all of us.”

“Careful, Steve, a girl could swoon under all that flattery,” she says, swinging her legs down and getting up. “Come on,” she says, patting him on the shoulder. “If we see him together, maybe he won't yell at you.”

“I think you’re underestimating how much he likes yelling at me,” Steve retorts, but getting up to follow her nonetheless.

Tony’s awake in the living area of his quarters and tapping away on a tablet when they walk in. Natasha rolls her eyes, heads straight to him and steals it out of his hands, ignoring his protests as she puts it on a bookshelf.

“Hi,” she says, sitting on the couch next to him. “Be social.”

“That sounds like something I really don’t want to do,” Tony says, eyeing Steve as he takes a seat across from them. “Why are you here?”

“She dragged me,” Steve says, raising an eyebrow. “Thinks you won’t yell at me if she’s here.”

“Oh really?” Tony asks, turning to look at Natasha. “You’ve discovered optimism in the months since we lost?”

“Someone has to keep morale up,” Natasha fires back. “Since you’re determined to be an asshole, and Steve’s spending all his time as your punching bag. A little optimism sounds good to me.”

“I thought Russians were meant to be stoic.”

“You’re thinking of the British. Russians drink and tell their friends when they’re being idiots.”

“Always get those two mixed up,” Tony says. “Steve? You got anything to add to this?”

Slightly startled by Tony addressing him directly, Steve hesitates, looking between Tony and Natasha before sinking back into the chair with a shake of his head. “I’m just happy I’m not being yelled at.”

“Yes, well. Maybe I’m tired of doing that,” Tony says, avoiding Steve’s gaze. “Maybe.”

“You sure?” Steve asks. “Because there must be something you haven’t yelled at me about yet, you haven’t even touched my fashion sense.”

“Actually,” Tony says, looking Steve up and down. “That’s improved. Lumberjack is a good look on you.”

“Look at the two of you growing up,” Natasha says, reaching over and patting Tony on the hand. “I’m very proud, I should get you both gold star stickers.”

“You’re a pain in my ass, Romanov,” Tony mutters, touching a button on the arm of the couch so that the leg rest comes up. “But if you could make yourself useful and get my meds? They’re in the bathroom.”

“Sure,” she says, kissing his cheek as she gets up. “But only if you don’t use me not being here to yell at Steve.”

“Cross my heart,” Tony says, watching her go. “So,” he says, looking at Steve. “It’s been pointed out to me that it’s possible I’ve not been the bigger person here.”

“Natasha didn’t mean—”

“Not by her,” Tony interrupts. “And, actually, maybe I was starting to realise it myself. There’s only so many cups you can throw at a man before you start to wonder why you’re doing it.”

Steve shifts in his seat, not entirely sure how to respond. “Tony, if you—not that I want things thrown at me, but if you’re not ready to—”

“Forgive you? Move on?” Tony lets out a bitter laugh. “I’m the only one not moving on here, it seems, and I don’t think that’s healthy. So. Clean slate?”

“I’d like that,” Steve says, the corners of his mouth ticking up into a smile that he can’t help.

“God, you’re a dork,” Tony mutters, but Steve doesn’t miss the soft smile creeping across his face either.

*

The new and slightly fragile peace between them seems to have spurred Tony on; he starts coming down to the gym instead of spending all his time on his tablet, and he lets Steve tell him when he needs to take a break. Between that, and his body finally letting him eat regular food, Tony’s almost back to full strength.

There’s moments where Steve will catch him flicking through the photos of the people they’ve lost, and he knows Tony hasn’t spoken to Pepper since the day she left, but there’s nothing Steve can do about that. Even if he could, he’s not sure he would, because all of them have a right to mourn the people they’ve lost, and Tony’s not an exception to that.

Everything’s going kind of okay until the day Steve gets caught in the city by an angry father whose son disappeared right in front of him.

Then, all he remembers is the world going black.

*

“—think you have to save the damn world all the time as if that means anything now, god, Steve, what the hell were you thinking?”

Steve barely understands the words he’s hearing as he comes back to consciousness, but— “Tony?” he mumbles, squinting at the shape by his bedside as he slowly manages to focus on what he’s seeing.

“You got shot,” Tony says without any preamble, his fingers fiddling with the sheet on the edge of the bed. “You got shot and it took so long to find you I was going to get in the suit.”

“Oh,” Steve says, staring up at the ceiling. “I didn’t mean—I went into the city?”

“You don’t remember?” Tony asks, his gaze sharpening as he looks at Steve.

“No, I do,” Steve says, as he feels the bed raise him to a sitting position; it’s slow going as it comes back to him, like the memories are swimming in mud. “I finished at the shelter, for the kids, and then—there’s a woman who sells flowers outside the subway station, I like to buy some and give them out—”

“Sucker.”

“But this time there—” Steve breaks off and sucks in a breath. “He was so angry,” Steve breathes out. “His son. He lost his son. Said it was my fault. Maybe he’s right.”

“He’s not,” Tony says, squeezing Steve’s hand.

Steve looks down to their joined hands, and feels his skin heating up at the touch. “Who found me?” he asks.

“Nat,” Tony says. “It made the news, but we didn’t know where you were. I tracked your phone but you left it here, and don’t think I don’t want to put a tracker under your damn skin now—”

“Tony,” Steve says, interrupting his rant. “I’ll remember my phone next time. No bodily trackers. What happened to him?”

The look on Tony’s face darkens and he shakes his head. “He turned the gun on himself,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck,” Steve breathes out. “How many more are there like him? Just—blaming us? Needing to take their pain out on someone?”

“What are you going to do, Steve? Let all of them shoot you until one day the serum can’t keep up and you actually die? Do you think that will solve everything?” Tony stands up, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t—” he cuts himself off and paces, stopping by the foot of Steve’s bed, a wild look in his eyes.

“Tony?” Steve watches him, a vague worry stirring in his chest. “I’m not—I’m okay—”

“This time.”

“I’m not planning on getting shot again,” Steve says as Tony comes back to the head of the bed, his hand running down Steve’s arm until he slides their fingers together in a firm grip.

“You _can’t_ ,” Tony says, holding on to Steve’s hand tightly. “I can’t lose anyone else, Steve. I can’t.”

Steve sighs, squeezing Tony’s hand and tugging him closer. “Come here,” he says quietly. “Tony, just—lie down with me.” It takes a moment, but eventually Tony gives in, rolling his eyes as he climbs on the bed. “There we go,” Steve says as Tony settles in.

“I’m not a child,” Tony says, poking Steve in the stomach. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because Rhodey told me you never gave up on me, before all this.”

“Rhodey has a big mouth.”

“Was he wrong?” Steve asks, running his fingers down Tony’s arm, slightly afraid that if he says the wrong thing, Tony will get up and leave.

“I asked first,” Tony says. “And quoting Rhodey isn’t an answer.”

“You didn’t give up on me, and I’m not leaving you,” Steve says softly, turning his head and brushing his lips over Tony’s forehead. “Not this time.” Tony goes stock still, and Steve braces himself for Tony leaving, but instead it’s like Tony’s entire body relaxes for the first time since this whole thing started; he’s pushing his face against Steve’s neck, and Steve just holds him, wanting to say something but not knowing what.

“Asshole,” Tony mumbles, almost too quiet for Steve to pick up. “You—I wasn’t meant to let you back in.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Too late,” Tony says against Steve’s skin before tilting his head back to meet Steve’s eyes. “You got me, Rogers.”

Steve smiles, and this time when he presses his lips against Tony’s forehead, there’s no mistaking it for anything but a kiss. “And all it took was getting shot,” he says, laughing when Tony kicks him in the shin.

**Author's Note:**

> fic post on [twitter](https://twitter.com/starstarked/status/1257007078041964544)
> 
> fic post on [tumblr](https://gotthesilver.tumblr.com/post/617117508165599232/fic-put-the-past-away-stevetony-mcu-33k)


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